


Enough

by Marrilyn



Series: Trauma Center [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Advice, Conversations, Episode: s14e07 Unhuman Nature, Friendship, Gen, Help, References to PTSD, Talking, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 10:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Unable to help Rowena on her own, reader reaches out to Sam for advice.





	Enough

"Can we talk?"

Sam, seated at his desk with his head buried in a book, looked up at you. "Sure. What's up?"

"It's Rowena," you said.

Concern crept over his face in an instant, a near perfect mirror of your own. "Is she okay?"

If only she was, you thought. Then there would have been no need for this conversation. A part of you wanted to utter some unconvincing lie and run away, but you knew you couldn't do that. You needed help.  _ Rowena _ needed help. You had to do this for her.

Taking a deep breath for courage, you sad, "No. She's not okay." Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as soon as the words left your mouth.

Sam put his book aside, focus entirely on you. "What happened?" His tone matched the look on his face — worried, curious. He and Rowena may not have been friends just yet, but he still cared about her. Aside from you, he was the only person who saw the good in her, the only person who allowed himself to look past the protective walls she'd built over the centuries and see the person, vulnerable, terrified, hiding within them. The two of them shared a bond you could never come to understand, no matter how hard you tried. They'd suffered at the hands of the same man, dreamed the same dreams, feared the same fears… You could never have that, could never even come close to comprehending what it was like.

A part of you envied the younger Winchester. You didn't want to be traumatized, of course not, but you wished you had the ability to grasp, at least a tiny bit, what Rowena was going through. Maybe then you wouldn't be so damn useless to her when she needed you the most.

"She's still scared, Sam," you uttered through trembling mouth.  _ Don't cry. Keep calm. Don't cry. _ "I thought, now that Lucifer's dead, things would get better, but they're not."

You weren't naive. You knew trauma couldn't disappear just like that, even if the one who'd caused it was no more. It took work, time, and endless amounts of patience. All of which you'd given her, and much, much more. But nothing you did seemed to work. Things would get better for a few days; she would sleep in peace and spend her days in joy, seemingly without a care in the world. But the memories would always come back, and just like that, in a few seconds of absolute terror, she would be right back at the start.

It wasn't fair. Rowena had done horrible things, but she'd changed. She was better; a better girlfriend, a better  _ person. _ Why couldn't life give her a chance, the same one you and Sam had given her? Why couldn't she be happy? She'd learned her lesson. She'd suffered enough.

"Why… why isn't she better?" you said, more to yourself than to Sam. A tear escaped down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away with the sleeve of your shirt and took a deep breath to steady yourself. No tears. No crying. You were just here to talk.

Sam's face was full of sympathy, and when he spoke, his tone reflected it. "That's not how it works," he said gently, carefully, like a parent explaining something serious to their small child.

_ Well, it should, _ the childish, petulant side of you thought. Lucifer was gone. So should be Rowena's trauma. It was only fair.

You wanted to chuckle at that. Since when was life fair? To Rowena, especially.

"What Rowena went through was horrible," Sam continued. "It's not something that can just go away."

"I know, but…"

But it should have gone away.

But she deserved a respite.

But it wasn't fair.

She was doing everything right. She was helping people. The cold, heartless wicked witch was no more. She was kind and sweet and, while she still stumbled from time to time, she was doing her best to be good.

It wasn't fucking fair!

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words to say. "It's gonna stay with her forever."

He might as well have plunged a knife straight into your heart. The words that left his mouth hurt just as much.

"She's gonna have to learn to deal with it," he said. A small smile grazed his lips. "It's a good thing she's not dealing with it alone."

"I'm always there," you confirmed. Except when she asked to be alone. You respected her need for privacy. "I just… I feel useless. Nothing I do is helping."

"You're not useless. Trust me." And you did, for his eyes shone with honesty. He was genuine. He cared about Rowena. Not as much as you did, but he wanted to help her, wanted her to get better. "Having someone around is big help."

"Is there nothing else I can do?" you asked, dejected, desperate.

He pondered on it for a moment. "Hold her when she's at her worst. Get her to talk about it."

"I am." Getting Rowena to talk wasn't always a successful feat, but your arms were around her at all times. Sometimes, when things were especially bad, she would walk up to you and bury her head in your neck, wordlessly demanding a hug (which you were always all too happy to provide).

"Then you're doing everything you can," Sam said.

"It's not enough," you told him.

"It's the best you can do. Unless she's willing to see a professional—"  a snort escaped you at that, and the hunter chuckled, having predicted the reaction. Hell would freeze over before Rowena would agree to see a therapist "—that's the best she's going to get."

Your face fell. You felt helpless, so damn helpless. Your girlfriend was suffering, and all you could do was talk to her and give her hugs. There was no magic at your disposal, no over the counter medicine. Fresh air and change of scenery could only do so much (and you'd tried, taking a small vacation to the mountains a few months back after reading about its supposed benefits on the Internet). Potions could help her sleep — they couldn't make the nightmares that plagued her dreams disappear. Nothing could make them disappear. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the memories that, from the way she described them, seemed as fresh as the day they'd formed, were here to stay. 

"I'm sure she appreciates all you're doing for her," Sam said, taking notice of your turmoil.

She did, and that was the saddest part. "I just wish I could do more."

"You're doing your best. She's lucky to have you."

You smiled. You certainly hoped so.

The familiar clicking of heels sounded behind you. Looking back, you saw Rowena, one of her hands on her hip and the other leaning against a bookshelf. Your face instantly lit up. She never ceased to cheer you up. She didn't have to do anything special; all she had to do was exist, be there, and your world was instantly brighter. Rowena wasn't the only lucky one in this relationship. You were lucky to have her, too.

"Ready for bed, dear?" she asked.

"Yeah," you replied. You turned back to the younger Winchester. "Thanks for the talk, Sam."

"No problem," he said. "See you guys in the morning."

"See you. Goodnight!"

"Night!"

You took Rowena's hand into yours and headed for the bedroom. Hopefully, no nightmares would disturb her tonight. And if they would, you would be there to comfort her, just as you had all those other nights. It was enough. Sam had said so, and it was true.

You were doing what you could for Rowena. You loved her, and she loved you. That was enough. You would repeat it to yourself until you started to believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to UltimateFandomTrash for giving me pointers as to how to write Sam.


End file.
